Balconies
by Tribi Ponyfeathers
Summary: He lives on the fifty eighth floor, and infatuated with a person he's never spoken to at a coffee-shop. She's a barista at the same coffee shop, in love with the boy living just one floor above her. Of course, the two have never met face to face, because separate-floor contact is outlawed. But he still finds time for the girl on the fifty-seventh floor balcony.
1. Chapter 1

He went out onto the balcony of the fifty eighth floor, staring out into the cold night. He cleared his throat, and began to sing.

"White lips, pale face. Breathing in snowflakes. Burned lungs, sour taste. Lights gone, days end. Struggling to pay rent. Long nights, strange men. And they say,"

His voice was soon joined by another, and together they sang; "She's in the class A Team, stuck in her daydreams, been this way since eighteen. But lately, her face seems, slowly sinking; wasting, crumbling like pastries. And they scream 'The worst things in life come free to us!'. And she's just under the upper hand, could go mad for a couple grams. She don't wanna go outside tonight. And in a pipe she flies to the motherland, or sells love to another man. It's too cold outside for angels to fly." And there they stopped, like he had the day they met.

She sighed, settling down in the lawn chair on the fifty seventh floor balcony attached to her apartment.

"So, what was your day like?"

"Nothing special." he replied, settling into his own chair.

"Did you see that cute girl you liked at that coffeeshop across the street?"

"Yeah, sorta. And besides, I have no idea if my mystery person is even a girl, you know. Never-mind cute."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, what'd you order today?"

"Trying to figure me out, m'lady? I'm flattered."

"Hey, just because I'm a barista there doesn't mean I remember every order. Nyeh."

"Black, with a heavy amount of Irish creamer. You?"

"Hot cocoa. Always and forever."

"Hey, sending a book your way."

"Cool!"

He pulled up a large red bucket with black spots, and placed a book in it, dropping it back down to his companion.

"The Black Cat's Solace? You're really laying it thick, you know that?" ** _(couldn't help the little shoutout)_**

"But it's a good book!"

"Ok, ok I'll read it. Jeez!"

She sat up, paging through the little book. She paused when she came across a little illustration of a girl and boy holding hands on either side of a tree.

"Did you draw that little thing?" she asked, quietly.

But he had already gone back inside.


	2. Chapter 2

'Crap, crap, crap! I'm late, I'm late!' he thought frantically as her raced through the 'streets' of his floor. 'Okay if I cut down 37th I'll have just enough time to try and catch my mystery person before they leave work!'

He rounded the corner and ducked into a little coffeeshop marked '123758'. He got into the line, thankful that there was only three people here today. Or maybe two?

'God-damnit I wish I had glasses!'

He could just barely make out black hair and blue eyes as he made his way up the line, careful to steer a good couple feet around objects.

"What can I get you, sir?" the black hair asked, in a voice that wasn't quite manly but not girly either, and he replied with, "My usual, black with four shots of Irish creamer."

"Ye-yes sir!" And the blackish blue blob was gone once more, and he carefully made his way to where he knew, (from before he went legally blind) a sign most likely read 'Pickup'.

He waited patiently, waited for the blob to call out 'Irish!' and for him to have to scan the chip that confirmed he was on the right floor and also to pay for his coffee.

"Irish! Order up!" And he walked forward, nearly bumping into the countertop, and did the usual routine of trying to see any little detail he could without making it seem obvious that he was trying to see his/her face.

When that was unsuccessful he took his coffee and left, giving a halfhearted 'Goodbye!' as he raced to his work. HAWKMOTH did not take lightly to models who didn't show up on time.

 ** _So, how this whole 'levels' thing works is it's basically like a caste system, but with 100 castes. You can change between them, like if you marry someone with a higher level you get the higher level of the two, and you can pay to change your level up by one. You start in the level your parents were, unless you were disowned/ orphaned. Then you get placed at level 20 unless you get adopted, in which case you get the level of your guardian, ect. Criminals get sent to Level 1 for however many years the sentence is, then given a level depending on the severity of the crime. Like stealing would be -1 level, vandalism -2, ect. It is frowned upon to interact between levels, and inter-level marriage usually only happens in under-thirty levels, or with levels with a 1 level distance. The reasoning for that being you can be employed at places 1 floor above your level rating, meaning it is plausable for say, a barista from a lover level and customer from higher level to fall in love? But it's practically unheard of for a higher leveler to go down a level unless to the 20th floor in cases of adoption. So, you can see how that may cause conflict if a certian girl likes a certain guy on a floor above her, (a certain model, perhaps?) but can't ever meet him outside of the coffeeshop she works at where the guy always seems to be scrutinizing her like she's something he can't figure out. [PS: Glasses are very hard to come by because the materials nessisary to create them are rare and homes on the higher floors are more expensive... so, yeah.]_**


End file.
